Transformation
by Optimus365
Summary: After the battle of Darkmount was won, the Autobots retreat back to the Harbinger. Optimus Prime is greeted by Ultra Magnus carrying a very weak Carabelle. One shot from Carry The One


**If this confusing you, then plz read my story, Carry The One. I'm working very hard on it and I'm so proud c:**

 **For those who are reading Carry ; I'm sorry if it's not much, but I feel like it's enough for you to get the idea. I had a hard time writing on without knowing how the transformation went, so it was needed for me to write, I figured it'd help you to read as well.**

 **Thank you all who are reading, please leave a review, even if it is just one chapter. I love you all and have a fabulous day. :***

 **-Lizzzard**

* * *

"Ratchet," Arcee called to the doc as he hurriedly typed away at the computer system nearby. "What do I do?"

"When I say so," he instructed. "Place her inside of the spark chamber of the protoform."

Arcee glanced between the human lying unconscious in her servos and the open chested protoform laying on the berth in front of her. She sighed, looking back at the doc and waiting for his command.

* * *

Optimus paced impatiently along the hallways of the Harbinger. His new frame being twice the size as before, it was weird to see his massive, strictly autobot frame stride through the dark, decepticon halls. Jack and Miko sat on Bulkhead's shoulder plates, who was sitting on the ground watching. Bumblebee leaned against the wall itself, Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus close by, all watching Optimus pace. Raf sat patiently at Bee's pedes, typing away at his computer.

"Y'think chief will be alright?" 'Jackie whispered down to Bulk.

"Soldiers," the commander ordered, his form straight at attention as he, himself, watched his Prime. "Despite the present circumstances, you are speaking about your Prime. Respectable pronouns will be appreciated."

Wheeljack rolled his optics, before returning back to watching Optimus.

Jack looked down at Raf. "Raf?" he asked down, trying to break the awkward silence between the ranks, the only sound being that of Optimus' pedsteps. "What're you doing?"

"Emailing Agent Fowler," he responded. "He's asking for updates on Cara's condition."

"But we don't have any!" Bulkhead argued, flailing his hands towards the closed door leading to the hallway where the three missing team members resided. "They haven't even given the _boss_ an update!"

As if Primus himself was listening, said doors hissed open. Arcee stepped through, Bulkhead raising to his pedes as Optimus rushed to stand before her. "How is she?" he demanded her softly, his frame hunched over.

"Ratchet's finishing up," Arcee reported. "Her spark transferred successfully, and the protoform accepted her completely. He is securing her spark, and he is about to bring her online."

"When can I see her?" he demanded over all the other questions thrown at her the next second.

"Let him in Arcee," Ratchet called from within the room. "He should be here."

Optimus pushed past the much smaller femme, entering the bay curiously. Looking around, he spotted his medic haunched over a petite, femme frame. She was still the grey of a protoform as she didn't have any armor covering the sensitive wiring. Her curvature was still much like that of her human body, the pistons existing as the curves and muscles in her previous form. Her hands were small, smooth, angled just the right way for Optimus. He reached out gently as he approached, laying his fingers feather - lightly against hers.

"Ratchet?..." he asked, never taking his optics away from her closed ones.

"As Arcee told you, the transfer was a complete success," he responded calmly. "I cannot tell you how it happened, or why it happened, but much like the transferring of a spark from a youngling to a femme, placing her body within the spark chamber of the protoform worked just fine. It sealed around her, and it started molding itself. It only reopened when I directed it too, when I reached for her body."

"Where is she?"

"That's the .. problem," Ratchet treaded carefully. "There was no body, Optimus. Just her spark,"

Optimus sighed, looking into the closed optics of the femme. "When will she online?"

"It is unclear," he responded. "It could be minutes, it could be days. She will wake when she is ready. But that is the other thing. … Some of her memories, could have been lost in the transfer…."

"What are you saying?" Optimus faced him, optics wide. His spark felt like it dropped to his pedes as he took in Ratchet's figure.

"She may… not remember any of us when she wakes,"


End file.
